


A Fool Too Late

by atrata



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Double Penetration, Extremely Dubious Consent, M/M, Object Penetration, Threesome - M/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-05-05
Updated: 2005-05-05
Packaged: 2017-10-08 05:53:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,331
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/73399
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/atrata/pseuds/atrata
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry tries to rescue Professor Lupin, but it doesn't go quite the way he'd planned.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Fool Too Late

**Author's Note:**

  * For [bicylette](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=bicylette).



> For the May 2005 Pornish Pixies Fantasy Fest. Request was: "Harry begs Snape and Lupin to see how much he can take. Be careful what you wish for..(Large) object penetration/double penetration a huge plus. SS/RL established relationship."

*

"Leave him alone!"

Snape's eyes narrowed dangerously, and Harry clenched his jaw. "Excuse me?"

"I heard you."

_"Oh, you'll scream. You'll beg for mercy, for all the good it shall do you."_

"Yesterday, in the staff room," Harry said to clarify. He took a deep breath, gathered his courage. "Leave him alone!"

Snape blinked and set down his quill. He looked... confused. That couldn't be right. "To whom are you referring, Potter?"

"Professor Lupin!"

Snape's eyebrows went up, and then down as his glare hardened. "You heard what I said to him."

Harry nodded.

_"You'll do it, Lupin, whatever I say, or everyone learns your secret."_

"And you wish for me to... leave him alone."

He nodded again, shifting on Snape's uncomfortable wooden chair.

_"Don't bother with the excuses, either. Be in my quarters by ten or you'll be very sorry indeed."_

"And in return, you will..."

Harry paled. "Er."

"Get out, Potter."

"No!"

Snape stood up and walked slowly around to the front of his desk. Harry shrunk a little in his seat and clenched his hands hard on the armrests. "Mr. Potter," Snape said, voice deadly. "If you think for one second that you can just--"

"I'll do it!"

Snape blinked and his mouth snapped shut. "Excuse me?"

Harry glared. "Whatever you're making him do! I'll do it! I don't care! Just -- leave him alone."

The blank look on Snape's face was disconcerting, to say the least. Maybe Harry had misread the situation.

"You'll do it," Snape repeated flatly.

"Er." But it was too late to back down. "Yeah. But you have to promise to leave him alone."

Snape crossed his arms over his chest. "And just what is it that you imagine I intend to do to him, Potter?"

"Hurt him." Harry scooted back in his seat and squared his shoulders. "You're blackmailing him so you can hurt him."

"I see. And you wish for me to hurt you in the same manner."

"I _wish_ for you to not hurt anybody," Harry snapped. "But that's not likely, is it?"

"Indeed not," Snape said smugly. He stared at Harry for a very long time, and Harry started to wonder if Snape wanted to carve him up and use him for potions ingredients, add pieces of Potter to the disgusting jars on his shelves.

"Well?" he demanded, when he couldn't take it anymore.

An eyebrow arched, and Snape clicked his tongue. "So eager, Mr. Potter. Very well. Remove your robes."

Harry shot to his feet. "What?!"

Snape leaned against the desk and he shot Harry a challenging look. "You heard me."

Harry took a deep breath and lifted trembling fingers to fumble at the clasp. He could do this. Snape wasn't allowed to kill him, and he didn't think he'd hurt him _too_ badly. Snape watched just long enough to make sure Harry was obeying, and then pushed off the desk and walked over to his worktable. Harry heard clinking and clattering and shuffling and rustling, and when he got his robes off, Snape was in his shirtsleeves.

He shivered as the cold, black eyes raked over his body; he wondered how he looked to Snape. He was in Dudley's old clothes, a faded t-shirt and too-large shorts, and he suddenly felt very small and skinny. He reddened and shifted but refused to look away. Snape raised an eyebrow, unbuttoned his right cuff, and started rolling up his sleeve. "Interesting how much better you obey when you're playing the martyr," he said. "Take off the rest."

"But--"

"All the rest," Snape said, eyes never leaving Harry as his left hand continued rolling up his sleeve. Harry felt a violent tremor pass through his body, and he reached down slowly to pull his shirt over his head. He could do this. Snape was probably just testing him, to see if he'd back down. He tossed his shirt on top of his robes, pushed his glasses up his nose, and then stripped off his pants. He felt stupid standing there in his shoes and socks, so he kicked them off his feet without being told.

Snape smirked and picked up a large marble pestle from the worktable behind him, studying Harry intently as he hefted its weight in his hand. Harry shivered again, his skin feeling hot and cold and entirely too bare under Snape's gaze.

"Mr. Potter, are you quite sure you intend to go through with this?"

Harry bit his lip, unable to take his eyes from the pestle moving slowly in Snape's hand. He nodded and straightened his back. "I can take it."

"Mm," Snape said. "We'll soon find out. Come over here."

Harry swallowed and took a few steps towards Snape. He could do this. He could. He managed to get within a few feet of the professor before he faltered. He shifted his weight uncomfortably from one foot to the other and waited for Snape to say something. Snape's smirk turned nasty, and his left hand snaked out and grabbed the back of Harry's neck. He turned, pulling Harry the last few steps to the table. Harry's thighs smacked hard against the wood, and then Snape bent him over, pushing his face to the pitted surface of the table.

"Hey! Don't--" Harry struggled against Snape's hand, but he was pinned. He tried to kick out behind him, but Snape stepped easily out of the way and leaned over, his whole body lean and hot and hard against Harry's.

"Be still, Potter," he said, lips and breath hot on Harry's ear. Harry felt something stir deep inside him and he flushed with shame. "This was, as I recall, your idea."

Harry took a deep breath and turned his face to the side, settling down, and Snape let some of the pressure off his neck. "What are you going to do?" He wondered if Snape was going to spank him, but that seemed too weird; why would Snape want to spank Professor Lupin?

Snape didn't answer. He stepped back and grabbed Harry's wrists, pulling them up and positioning Harry's hands on the other edge of the table. "Now," he said. "Do you think you can stay still, or will I have to restrain you?"

Harry clutched at the table's edge and shook his head. "No! I -- What are you going to do to me?" he asked again, hating how scared his voice sounded. He couldn't quite stop the shaking of his body, and his palms were sweaty and slipping over the wood, and he was getting the most inappropriate erection in the history of inappropriate erections, and maybe this hadn't been the best idea he'd had this week.

"Backing out?"

"No!" Harry said, twisting and glaring over his shoulder. "No, I -- I'm not." He couldn't.

"Lovely," Snape said, his tone suggesting it was anything but. "Then be silent, and be still."

Harry put his head back down on the table, the wood rough and cool against his cheek, and then almost jumped out of his skin when he felt Snape's hands settle softly on his shoulders. "That does not qualify as still, Potter," Snape said, hands tightening and pressing Harry down. His hands were large and warm and covered with some sort of potion, and Harry felt panic well up in his belly -- what if it were something horrible? And then the hands moved, gliding down his back in long, smooth strokes, and Harry gasped in surprise and then relaxed slightly into the table. It felt _good_.

Little by little, he felt himself relaxing into the table as Snape's hands, rough and smooth and all over him, moved over his body for long minutes. The potion seeped into his skin, tingling and warming and relaxing, and all his worry and tension melted away. He couldn't even bring himself to protest when Snape's hands started moving over his _arse_, rubbing in slow circles. He was warm all over, even-- even between his legs, and he knew he should be mortified and humiliated, but it wasn't like Snape _cared_. He sighed and shifted a little on the table, then gasped as the head of his cock brushed against the underside of the table.

He wondered vaguely what kind of punishment this was -- was Snape blackmailing Professor Lupin so he could give him a _massage_? He doubted it very much. And then Snape's hands dipped between his cheeks, spreading them to the cool dungeon air.

Harry stiffened and looked blearily over his shoulder. "Professor? I don't--"

"Hush," Snape said, and dragged one long finger down the cleft of Harry's arse. He planted the other hand in the small of Harry's back, holding him still. "This, Potter--" The slick finger circled his hole and tapped lightly; Harry shuddered. "--this is why you're here, is it not?"

"I don't knooooh, god." The finger slid down and then Snape's hand was between his legs, cupping his balls briefly before closing around his cock. His hand felt so big and warm, enveloping him completely. It squeezed once around his cock.

"Oh, I think you do," Snape said, and Harry thanked the gods that Snape never used _that_ tone of voice in class. He shivered, moaned, and bucked into Snape's hand, and then Snape pulled away. "Stay," he ordered.

Harry felt strangely bereft without Snape's warmth behind him, without Snape's hands all over him, but he was determined to stay where he was. Snape clearly expected him to bolt, but Harry wasn't going to do it. And -- and it hadn't been that bad, so far.

He heard the whoosh of Floo powder. "Lupin," Snape said. "A word."

Harry almost stood up, but he grabbed for the table at the last second. It was another test. It had to be--

_Whoosh._

"Severus, I thought you weren't free until -- what the--"

"Potter's come to your rescue."

"My rescue? I don't -- Harry?"

Harry swallowed thickly and looked up, not sure what was going on. Professor Lupin was standing behind him, slack-jawed and staring. Snape was smirking. "Professor Lupin," Harry said, his voice a little hoarse. "I thought -- he said--"

Snape took a step closer to Professor Lupin, pressing his body against Lupin's back. "He heard me blackmailing you, Lupin. Heard me threaten to make you scream." He was using _that voice_ again, and Harry watched, fascinated and a little afraid, as Snape bit Lupin's earlobe. Lupin's eyes fell shut and his head fell back. "He came to offer himself in your stead. He's very, _very_ noble, don't you agree?"

"Harry," Lupin croaked. "That was--"

"He has assured me," Snape cut in smoothly, "that he can take whatever I'm inclined to give him." He stepped away from Lupin, who straightened and opened his eyes. They were dark and a little wild, and they kept darting between Snape and Harry's arse. Snape stepped back over to the table and picked the pestle up again, stroking it almost lovingly a few times before pushing Harry's head back to the table with this other hand. "And I find, for once, that I'm rather inclined to oblige him."

The hand swept back down his back.

"Severus, I really don't think -- oh."

The hand curled under his arse, wrapped around his half-hard prick, and started pumping steadily. Harry sucked in his breath and tried not to moan, but there was all this _pressure_ inside him, and every piece of his skin was so sensitive -- he could feel the wood rubbing his nipples, the air moving over his back, his palms sliding over the table edge, Snape's hands all over him, setting him on fire.

"Tell him, Potter," Snape said, his rich voice another sensation in itself. "Tell him you can take it." He increased the pressure on Harry's cock.

"Yes!" Harry gasped, thrusting into Snape's fist, into that tight heat. "I -- I can take it. I can -- god. Oh -- oh, god!" And he was coming, flying apart, cock spurting helplessly all over the bottom of the table as Snape stroked him. His hands wrapped hard around the edge of the table and he sucked in huge gulps of air, settling slowly back into himself. He lay limp and gasping and sweaty on the table, his legs wobbling underneath him.

And then there was something else, more pressure, hard and huge at his--. "No," he said, twisting away. But then Professor Lupin was there; he'd pulled a chair to the other side of the table and his soft hands were smoothing Harry's sweaty hair out of his eyes.

"Sssh, Harry," he said, "It's all right. You're going to be fine."

Harry whimpered. The pressure was terrible and unrelenting, splitting him in two, and he didn't see how he was ever going to be all right. "Wha--"

"Just relax," Professor Lupin said, leaning over the table and pressing soft, cool lips to Harry's forehead. "Breathe. It's all right, Harry, just a pestle. It's nothing. You're a good boy." Harry closed his eyes and concentrated on Professor Lupin's soothing voice, soft in his ear, and tried to do what he said, tried to relax around the pressure in his arse. His whole body was shaking as Snape pushed it inside him, not letting up for even a second.

"Hurts," he panted, one hand scrabbling for Professor Lupin and finding his arm. And that was better -- something to hang on to that wasn't the table, someone to be anchored to who wasn't Snape.

"I know, Harry," Lupin said, moving closer yet, his breath hot and damp against Harry's ear. "But you're being such a good boy. Just breathe, and you'll be fine. You're almost there."

Harry nodded weakly and tried to breathe around the burn. And -- thank god, thank god -- the professor was right; the pain started to subside. Snape was still pressing, but he must have put the big end first because the worst of the pain seemed to be over. The rest of the pestle slid into him easily, and he gasped when he felt the ball at the end pressing against him.

Everything went very still when that happened, and Harry took a deep breath, trying to relax the way Professor Lupin said. He could hear his own breathing, gasping and shallow, and the quiet rhythmic sound of-- his eyes flew open. Professor Lupin had moved even closer, was leaning over the table to watch what Snape was doing, and as Harry shifted on the table he saw that the professor had his robes open; his cock full and heavy, dark red against Lupin's pale hand.

"Oh," he gasped out. "What--"

But Snape didn't let him finish; he grasped the ball at the end of the pestle and started sliding it out of Harry's body, and Harry felt like his insides were going with it as it split him open again. He screwed his eyes shut tight and fisted his hand in Professor Lupin's robes.

"Relax, Harry," Lupin murmured in his ear. "Remember to breathe."

Harry nodded, his throat thick with unshed tears, and breathed deeply, concentrating on Lupin's quiet voice in his ear as Snape worked the pestle out of him, and then in again. It seemed to go a little easier every time, and then Snape did _something_ and Harry felt a jolt of pleasure explode inside him.

He opened his eyes in surprise and was again caught staring at Lupin's huge cock, at Lupin's slim fingers moving slowly up and down the shaft, the tip dark red and glistening. Snape did the thing again and Harry sucked in his breath as his cock rose slowly to attention. Harry closed his eyes again and gave himself over to the sensation of the slick, hot sliding all around him and inside him. He moaned when Snape's hot hand closed over his cock again, and with Professor Lupin's voice in his ear, it was easy to pretend it was his hand, too.

But then Snape ruined it, leaning close over Harry's body, pressing him into the table. "More, Potter?"

Harry whimpered, and Snape squeezed his cock.

"Harry," Lupin whispered, voice ragged. "Can you--" He choked off the rest the sentence, but Harry could hear the desire in his voice.

He nodded a little frantically. "Yeah," he gasped out, twisting in Snape's hands as Snape pumped his cock slowly. "More. I -- god. More."

"See how eager he is, Lupin? It would be absolutely criminal to deny him now."

Lupin exhaled sharply over Harry's ear, his breath damp and hot, pushing Harry close to the edge. "Harry, are you sure?"

"He's sure. Tell him, Potter."

Harry nodded again, unable to speak as that pressure built inside him again. He writhed on the table, and he was close, so close and then-- "Fuck!" Snape squeezed his cock almost brutally, just under the head, forcing the orgasm back into his body.

"Language, Potter," he said, voice low in Harry's ear. "You shouldn't like to explain to your housemates why points are missing in the morning." A pause, and then Snape's heat moved away from him. "Go sit on Professor Lupin's lap."

Harry opened his eyes cautiously, still shaking, his cock painfully hard. He pushed himself up off the table and winced; Snape hadn't taken the pestle out, and it was huge and strange and hard inside him and he wasn't sure what to do. Professor Lupin had got to his feet and slid onto the table; he was waiting there, his eyes closed, his breathing strained. Snape was watching him hungrily, a slight smirk on his face. He finally seemed to notice Harry hovering uncertainly on the other side of the table.

"Well?"

"I -- it's hard to walk. Sir."

"Yes," Snape agreed mildly. "Walk."

Harry bared his teeth at Snape, but that only made him smirk more, so Harry clenched his arse and walked slowly around the table, moving his legs as little as possible. He felt dizzy and weak and light-headed, and when he came round the other side of the table to see Professor Lupin sitting there, his cock jutting out from his robes, he had a hard time taking his eyes off it. He gulped nervously, licking and biting his lips, and he heard a quick indrawn breath from above him. He looked up, and Professor Lupin reached a hand out to brush the fringe from Harry's eyes. Then he looked over Harry's shoulder at Snape.

"Severus, I don't know."

"Then send the boy away," Snape said, sounding bored by the entire conversation. Harry glared at him over his shoulder.

Lupin sighed and ran a hand through his hair, and then through Harry's. He smiled kindly, and Harry gave him a shy smile back, hoping he wouldn't be sent away. He couldn't go anywhere in his condition anyway. "It'll be all right, Harry," he said. "Up you go."

Harry felt cool hands under his arms as Snape lifted him up to the table. He steadied himself on Professor Lupin's shoulders even as Lupin's hands came up to guide his hips down. He planted his knees on either side of Lupin's thighs and sank slowly onto his lap, arse still clenched and quivering. A jolt of pleasure tore through him as his erection rubbed against Lupin's, and he felt Lupin's hands clench on his hips. He dropped his head against Lupin's shoulder with a low groan, unable to stop himself from grinding his hips forwards.

One of Lupin's hands -- not as big as Snape's, but just as warm, and smoother, and much nicer -- closed over their cocks, and Harry almost came right there. The sensation of another prick, so much larger, sliding smoothly against his own was overwhelming, and he was soon whimpering and writhing and drowning. Lupin's tongue was sucking the sweat from his hairline, and Lupin's arm was wrapped firmly around his back, and Lupin's hand was flying over his cock, twisting just the way Harry liked it, and _there_, god, just like that, _yes_, and Harry moaned, coming all over his chest and Lupin's chest and the table and _god_ and even the sudden pressure in his arse as Snape pulled out the pestle didn't hurt much at all. And in fact, Harry felt a bit empty, actually, once it was gone, but then Snape was lifting him up again, and Lupin's hands were steady on his hips, and when he sank back down he realized he was on Lupin's cock.

He squirmed, saw Lupin's jaw clench, watched a bead of sweat roll down his face.

"Fuck," Lupin pronounced carefully. Harry blinked in surprise and tried to sit back, but then Lupin's hands settled soothingly on his lower back, moving in slow circles.

"Language, Professor Lupin," Snape said from behind him, dryly amused. "Wouldn't want to set a bad example for the boy."

"All right, Harry?" Lupin asked him, ignoring Snape entirely.

Harry nodded. "Yeah," he said. "Yes, Professor." Lupin wasn't as big as the pestle had been, and he felt-- better inside him, not as hard, not as cold. Harry squirmed again on Lupin's lap, hoping for another reaction like the one before. Lupin groaned, and Harry moved closer, wrapping his arms around Lupin's shoulders and dropping his head into the crook of his shoulder, his robes cool on Harry's fevered skin.

"Wrap your legs around me, Harry," Lupin said. Harry struggled to do as he was told, although his muscles were barely listening to him. Lupin helped a bit, and then slid them both to the edge of the table and spread his legs slightly. "Remember to breathe," he said, and before Harry really had a chance to wonder why Professor Lupin would say that, he felt something else pressing inside him, felt Snape's shirt at his back and -- oh. _Oh, fuck._

He whimpered and squirmed on Lupin's cock as Snape pressed into him relentlessly, hot and slick and huge and painful. "Breathe, Harry," Lupin whispered again, his hands still moving slowly over Harry's lower back. His voice didn't sound very steady, but Harry hurt so much and the pressure was so huge and impossible and he was sure he was going to be torn apart. He sobbed into Lupin's shoulder, trying to do what he said, trying to relax and breathe and be good, but he couldn't, he couldn't, it was too much--

"Too much for you, Potter?" Snape said in his ear, dry and mocking.

"NO!" he cried out, and then sunk his teeth into Lupin's shoulder as he pressed down as hard as he could, through the pain.

"Fuck," Lupin said again, although it might have been Snape; all Harry could hear clearly was the blood roaring through his ears as the pain ripped through his body. "Breathe, Harry."

"Stop saying that! I'm breathing!"

Snape made a noise that might have been a laugh if anyone else had made it, and then he was moving, and the pain was ebbing and flowing and carrying Harry away as he rocked on Lupin's lap and Snape pounded into him, the slick slide of their cocks inside him strange and terrifying. Snape and Lupin were kissing over his shoulder, their tongues and teeth in and out of one another's mouths, and Harry couldn't say how long the strange rhythm lasted, getting faster and faster until it lost any rhythm at all, and Harry was just jerked back and forth between them as they groaned and came in his arse.

Harry sagged against Professor Lupin, his heart pounding, listening to their breathing return to normal. His arse was on fire, but was contracting little by little, the pain easing, as Snape and Lupin both softened slowly and fell out of him. He whimpered softly into Lupin's neck; after being full for so long, being empty was both a relief and a disappointment, and all Harry wanted to do was sleep. Lupin's hands were still soothing on his sweaty back, and Harry nestled a bit closer, sighing softly.

"Well done, Potter." Snape's drawl snapped him out of his reverie, and he sat up and looked around. "You have successfully rescued Professor Lupin from my evil clutches. I think it's time you went back to your dormitory."

"But--"

"It's all right, Harry," Lupin said, pressing a quick kiss to his temple and brushing the fringe out of his eyes. "It's getting late." He slid forward and set Harry gingerly on the floor before sprawling backwards over the table and throwing his arm over his eyes with a groan.

"Professor?"

"You heard him, Potter. Out." He _accio_'d Harry's clothes and thrust them into his arms after casting a quick cleansing charm and a healing charm that left him slightly sore, but not aching. "In the future, I suggest you stay out of other people's business."

"But--" He stepped into his shorts and glanced quickly at Professor Lupin. "Is he all right?"

"He's fine. Or will be shortly. Regardless, it isn't any of your concern."

Harry pulled on his t-shirt and glared at Snape. He didn't know how it could _not_ be his concern after-- after--

"But--"

"Harry," Professor Lupin snapped. "Just go."

"Oh," Harry said, his stomach clenching. He pulled on his robes, his fingers numb, and slid his feet into his trainers. "Right." He looked uncertainly between the two professors, but neither one of them had moved, and Snape's stony glare wasn't very encouraging. "G'night," he mumbled.

"Good night, Harry," Professor Lupin said.

Harry trudged to the door.

"Mr. Potter?"

Harry turned warily at the sound of Snape's voice. "Yes, sir?"

"_Obliviate._"

*

"Ten tonight, Lupin. Don't be late."

Harry stopped short, his eyes widening as he heard Snape's vicious whisper.

"Severus, I don't think--"

"I don't care. You'll do as I say, and gladly."

"Or what?"

"Or I tell everyone about you."

Professor Lupin sighed. "All right, Severus. Ten o'clock."

Harry waited, holding his breath, until their footsteps had receded down the corridor. Then he bolted the other way, heading for the dungeons. It wasn't even eight. He had plenty of time to stop Snape.

 

  
**FIN.**


End file.
